Window of Opportunity
by triangularis
Summary: Dedicated to Meg and Kev because God DAMN you guys love keveddy hahah


In one of those states of mind where even being inside your own head feels out of place, Kevin couldn't quite grasp the sheer magnitude of the repercussions that the event that was now transpiring would have on himself – and the other party – once they were through with each other. After tonight and this (whatever _this_ was), ran its course. He hadn't overdone it on the Bailey's or anything like that – he didn't feel intoxicated or under the influence, and he'd asked Eddy as well, albeit in a rather unceremonious and rushed fashion, so he knew he had the all-green that his partner in _this_ had given full consent. He just felt like he was a third party viewing the events transpiring in the realm of the living, that was all. Not drunk.

Maybe that was why his head felt so full of mush. Something inside his brain didn't seem to be working properly; the electrons in his head weren't 'clicking' together, somehow. Replacing the spokes on his wheels was such a simple task that it seemed funny that his brain couldn't replicate the operation. That, at least, never failed to give out the signature clicking noise of a job well done.

As he opened up his mouth with the intent to trail his lips down the sweating chest of the revolutionary scam-artist in front of him, Kevin vaguely wondered if there were any other relevant differences between himself and his beloved bike. His bike could peddle on, minding its own bike-business, for pretty much forever without fear of any 'ramifications of its actions' besides maybe, like, a physical injury because of too much strain. Or rust, that too. He, being a human being, had a lot more to worry about. This wasn't just some ride through the park as a stress-reliever. This was deathly serious (sans the bike metaphor). One wrong move and he could wave goodbye to whatever it was he had found tonight.

And god in heaven what a window of opportunity he had stumbled upon. Barely aware of what he was doing (and it seemed from a quick evaluational check of the glazed-over eyes looming hungrily over him person that Eddy wasn't much better off than he was), Kevin thought he had hit the jackpot for sure. Though he tried and tried to comprehend what was happening between the two of them, he couldn't quite place his finger on it, especially not in his frayed state of mind. Teenage hormones? Sexual tension, built up through the years that they'd known one another, only now cracking under its own weight?

Not to say that it wasn't still rough terrain. More rough than the stubble lining the chin of the person who he was now apparently making out with was their trepidation through this unexplored territory. That being said, they were very much in this cesspool of testosterone _as a team_, and that at least was nice. He could appreciate having someone to share a battle with, anyway. It always helps to put your mind at ease to know that someone knows exactly what you're going through and exactly how fuckin' hard it is to deal with. Like being on a sports team, almost. His mind seemed to be having trouble finding things that he was familiar with to connect to this new experience in an attempt to make sense of it.

Pretending that his lips left marks where they touched the tanned-pink skin made it more fun, if he thought that was even possible. Envisioning the places that the incriminating marks would be figuratively gracing the epidermis, almost like a strange, winding tattoo, became somewhat of a game to him, and he fell into the pattern of it after the third or fourth kiss. Coursing through his veins was some pigment that made his blood feel red-hot; the reason that he wanted to prove to the big-headed piece of garbage his mouth was currently attached to that Kevin was better at **everything** than he was. Better at absolutely everything, sex included. It was comforting that he knew Eddy well enough to know that it was ludicrously likely that he was having thoughts along the exact same lines as Kevin was right at this very moment. He could feel the other fighting for the upper hand, figuratively attempting to squirm and wreste his way into victory. This was turning into a power struggle.

Stopping did not feel like it was anything even close to an option. Everything he did felt controlled by movements both carnal and deep – to deny them would be to deny everything he had been not wanting, but **needing** for lord knows how long. And yet, it seemed to have come to just to that. He had been asked to pull away. Eddy had vocally asked him to stop what he was doing, and that brought his wandering mind down to earth in lightning speed. As he pulled back in what he hoped would come across as an infuriatingly leisurely manner, he took quick stock of the situation that had just transpired under both of their noses. Eddy's stupid bright-yellow polo shirt had momentarily decided to take up residence alongside his own pair of goldfish-print boxer shorts, both discarded about two feet away from the pair of flustered, half naked, and very aroused teenage boys. He bet Nazz would think this whole setup was hilarious when he would tell her about it later.

"What's the matter, dorky? Kitchen too hot for ya'?" As soon as he said it, he immediately wished he could change what he had blurted out. If there was ever an inappropriate time to be making jokes, now would be just that. All the light touches along his neck, and all the possessive grabbing of dextrous fingers running under his shirt must have disarmed him. Caught him off his game. He'd have to be more careful if he wanted to prove he was the best at this.

Ignoring the fact that apparently Eddy touching him could catch him off guard in the first place.

As if able to read his thoughts at will, Eddy determined that now would be the ideal time to slink his hands up Kevin's row of vertebrae, in turn causing an anticipatory shiver to run up Kevin's spine, all the way from tailbone to the nape of his neck.

"Nah," Eddy replied, slight panting causing his words to hitch, "just needed to catch my breath a little."

That, at least made Kevin laugh.

"So you really **can't** keep up with me."

Predictably, Eddy's beak twisted downwards into a scowl. A scowl that Kevin knew from fleeting experience tasted remarkably more like the sugar on a jawbreaker than anyone's mouth really had any right to. Old habits die hard, and Eddy's infamous sweet-tooth was as good an example of this as one could hope to get. Or… maybe he used… flavoured lip chap…?

The thought, fairly innocent on the surface, set off a noticeable enough reaction that he wished his boxers were still on. God fucking damn it he was blushing, wasn't he.

Eddy's sharp, sort-of-nervous bark of laughter confirmed Kevin's suspicions.

His own sharp, uninhibited gasp of pleasure followed in response shortly after. He damn near whimpered at the easy pace his nether regions were now being stroked at. Evidently the stiffening of his cock had been all the invitation the shorter boy needed to take back the upper hand. A warm sensation was beginning to pool around the base of his pelvis, and Kev was sure that, should his eyes be open, he would be greeted by an infernally smug grin on the face of his assailant. Kevin was losing control of the situation, and he knew it. Time to turn this thing around. Or hopefully at least even it out a little bit.

His last-ditch effort to turn the tables consisted of a sloppy, blind grope for the base of the others dick. Unfortunately for him, his right hand touched skin not at the penis but instead ended up on Eddy's left thigh, blatantly confused as to how it landed there. Luck seemed to be at least _somewhat_ on his side, though – the effect that the unexpected touch had on the other boy was similar enough to what Kevin had been going for, he supposed. You would have to be some sort of idiot to not register a breathy keening noise paired with a twitch of the dick as a sign of arousal. So far, so good. Now all he had to do was maneuver his lower half so that it lined up _just right_…

…_**choice**_.

A rush of pleasure came from the security of his newfound advantage, not to mention the fact that in this recently-implemented vantage point all he had to do to receive some stimulation was buck his hips slightly upwards. That was what was great about this position; the two dicks rubbing against each other like that took care of_ your_ situation with minimal effort so that you could focus on **_his_** situation at the same time, relatively without having to multitask _too_ much. He felt the need to reiterate: **choice**.

And god, the way Eddy was tilting his head away, exposing his neck to the alpha-male in a show of submission – it made Kevin want to taste those jawbreaker lips again. He needed another hit.

The messy kiss was received just as one would expect it to be: with groans and bitemarks and famished gasps for air in between it all.

It was almost embarrassing how fast the climax hit. Kevin would have been ashamed of himself if it weren't for the fact that Eddy reached his peak from the frottage before he had, coming hard and gasping like a fish out of water. The haze of bliss was highlighted by Kevin's pride at his success.

He just hoped that this wouldn't be the last time he got to show Eddy who was boss.


End file.
